


Fucksford, Idaho

by BlakeBlue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels are Dicks (Supernatural), Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom!Cas, Cas has a son, Castiel almost has a panic attack, Complicated - Freeform, Crying, Dean Winchester’s A+ coping mechanisms, Dean being a dick, Dean’s not that happy about that, Demons Are Assholes, Explicit Language, Family Bonding, Gay Sex, Graphic Description, Homophobia, Humor, Jack finds a friend, Jealous Dean Winchester, Jealousy, M/M, Mentions of interalized homophobia, Nephilim bonding, Panic Attacks, Past Relationship(s), Past Sexy Times, Pimpala - Freeform, Pining Dean Winchester, Please drink responsibly, Sam is supportive, Switch!Destiel, What else is new, cas cries, oh no, past!Dean being no homo, top!dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-05-12 22:01:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19237942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlakeBlue/pseuds/BlakeBlue
Summary: It’s not like Dean thought that this whole situation was bullshit, because it was. It was complete and utter horseshit. He had no idea what was waiting for them when they arrived. No idea who they were running to save. No details, nothing, notta, zilch. The hunter kept his eyes trained on the road, trying to think of all the possibilities that this might be. Angel business? Maybe. Demon problem? Possibly? Apocalypse #3? It could quite possibly be, given their luck. All he knew was that when Cas suddenly popped his feathery ass into the kitchen, scaring him shitless, looking like he was on the edge of an anxiety attack, that they had to go, and go right then.He only wished he knew what he was getting into.





	1. He's Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! This is my first fic in a long time so I would appreciate any and all constructive feedback! Thank you!!

             It’s not like Dean thought that this whole situation was bullshit, because it was. It was complete and utter horseshit. He had no idea what was waiting for them when they arrived. No idea who they were running to save. No details, nothing, notta, zilch. The hunter kept his eyes trained on the road, trying to think of all the possibilities that this might be. Angel business? Maybe. Demon problem? Possibly? Apocalypse #3? It could quite possibly be, given their luck. All he knew was that when Cas suddenly popped his feathery ass into the kitchen, scaring him shitless, looking like he was on the edge of an anxiety attack, that they had to go, and go right then.

              So, here they were, on the road again with Baby’s engine rumbling under his feet. Sam beside him, laptop perched on his lap, light illuminating his face in the dark. Jack sitting quietly behind his brother, lost in the droplets of rain racing down the window and Cas fidgeting in the backseat like a hyperactive chihuahua, bugged eyed and anxious. And the guy had the nerve to not even tell them a thing about where they were going. Except exactly where they were going. At four in the freaking morning, in the middle of a freaking hailstorm. He cringed every time a wretched ball of hail hit his precious Baby’s hood. She’d surely be riddled with dents after this. God damnit, Cas is going to owe him big time. Hell, he’s going to owe him for the rest of his angelic existence.

              He was initially against this. He still was, but he just couldn’t let Cas do whatever this was alone. Whatever it was they were walking into.

              It was earlier that morning, or rather, last night at about nine that that familiar flutter of wings interrupted the silence of the bunker…

              Dean felt the angel’s presence before he heard him, but it really didn’t do much to prepare him for the imminent heart attack he was bound to have.

              “Dean!!” The hunter sputtered, loosing his grip on his beer and watching it clank to the floor.

“Jesus Christ, Cas, what the fu-!!”

              Cas was right up in his space within seconds. “This is not the time for your blasphemous comments, Dean, we have to go, now!!”

              The shear urgency in the man’s voice was enough to throw Dean for a loop. The angel was going completely apeshit. Blue eyes wild, shoulders tense under that bulky old trench coat, face red and his hair more tussled than ever.

              Dean didn’t think he had ever seen the angel like this, except when he fussed about Jack. Which this didn’t look that different from when he was playing daddy angel, but it was pretty close.

              “What? Cas where do we- “

              “Rexburg, Dean, Rexford, Idaho. Now, Dean!!” the angel’s hands were trembling as he shouted, he even looked like he might start crying. What the hell was his deal?

              Dean stepped forward and grabbed the angel’s wrists, ignoring the subtle flutter in his chest at the simple touch. This wasn’t the time, nor was it ever.

              But Rexford? Why did that sound familiar? Didn’t they do a case a few years ago in Rexford? Yeah, that had to be it. Something about a witch or a vamp or something like that. He didn’t remember the details. But Rexburg? What was so important to Cas that they had to haul ass fourteen hours at freaking nine in the evening?  

              “Cas, buddy, calm down, what’s in Rexford?” he asked, spilled beer forgotten in a puddle at his feet. He tried to keep any frustration out of his voice though he wasn’t exactly successful. It had to be something that the angel himself couldn’t handle, why else would he come to the Winchesters for help? Cas was a big boy, he could handle himself, Dean knew, so this had to be something different. He just wished that the guy would just tell him what the hell was up!

              The angel shook in his hands, violent trembles not unlike a panicked mother that had lost her kid.

              “They know where he is, Dean, we have to go now!! Now, Dean!!” he cried, blue eyes a cyclone of panic and urgency. There was fear there too but for what or who, Dean had no idea.

              “Cas? Dean? What’s going on?” came his brother’s voice from the doorway, his frame filling up the threshold.

              “Castiel?” Jack’s voice piped up from behind Sam, the boy barely visible over the man’s shoulder.

              Dean wouldn’t have even noticed that they were there if Cas hadn’t wrenched his hands from Dean’s grasp and turned to the younger Winchester and the Nephilim.

              “Sam! Rexford! We have to go, now!!” came Cas’ adopted shrill tone as of the passed three minutes.

              Sam’s shoulders tensed, his brow furrowing in confusion and concern.

              “Rexford?” he breathed thoughtfully. After a moment, his eyes widened.

              “Rexford, Idaho? Dean, wasn’t that where you found Cas when-“

              Oh. Yeah, Rexford. That. He remembered now. Got it. He didn’t need anymore reminders of Rexford. Nope. Didn’t need it. He had opened his mouth to dismiss the statement, but Cas beat him to it.

              An impatient snort came from the almost vibrating angel.

              “Yes, Sam, Rexford, Idaho! We don’t have time for this!!” he scowled, taking a few steps towards the door and Sam before Dean caught him by the sleeve of his trench coat.

              “Cas, what the hell is going on?” he hissed, yanking the angel around to face him.

              What met Dean was a look of anger, panic and fear. Pure mortification is the better word. The angel was terrified, and it made his heart burn with the need to remove that fear. Wipe it from the angel’s mind, make sure he never feels something so horrible ever again. If only he knew how.

              “Cas?” came Dean’s voice, softer than he had intended it to be but he was thankfully that it seemed to ground the angel, if only slightly. His breathing slowly came down to a gentle shudder, blue fiery eyes simmering to a soft glow as he settled.

               Cas blinked several times, gasping out softly as he glanced up at the hunter as if he was just now noticing he was there. He stumbled alittle, his knees buckling as Dean caught him by the shoulders.

                Brother and Nephilim forgotten in the doorway; the hunter held the angel close as worry made itself evident across his face.

                “Cas, what-“

                “I’m sorry, Dean,” the angel began, pushing out rasping breaths as he held onto the man, “but we have to leave now, or we’ll be too late,” he breathed, his hands twitching in the fabric of the man’s shirt sleeves.

                Dean let out an exasperated sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. He wished the angel would at least tell them who or what they were going to be too late for. But it didn’t look like that would be a possibility right now, or anytime soon for a matter of fact. He took his time in his silence, marveling at the closeness he was sharing the other. If he was secretly trying to savor it, no one had to know but him.

                 Another moment ticked by before the hunter sagged his shoulders in defeat, a sigh escaping his chapped, pink lips. His eyes flicked up to his brother still standing in the kitchen doorway and gave the younger man a nod. Sam gave him a stern knowing look, much like the bitch face he gave his older brother when he didn’t agree with his excessive drinking habits, before quickly disappearing down the hall towards their separate rooms.

                 Jack stood awkwardly in the doorway, hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Sure, he wanted to comfort his father, but something really didn’t feel right about stepping into the kitchen with the two adults. He bit his lip, uncertainty fluttering in his chest before he caught a glance up at the eldest Winchester, the hair standing up on the back of his neck as he felt the fire of the glare burning off of those green eyes.

               The boy swallowed, taking a nervous step back. “I’ll just um-“he stuttered, taking one last glanced towards Dean before clearing his throat. “I’ll go help Sam,” he declared, finally taking his leave and scurrying down the hall after the taller man.

                Once again, they were alone, hands clutching fabric like it would be the last time they would do so.

                “Dean- “

                “Cas, what’s going on?”

                 A heavy sigh came rushing from the angel, his eyes closing and then opening again with a far-off look settled in the deep blue. Dean couldn’t really place the feeling, but he knew that whatever Cas was upset about, frantically panicked about, meant a great deal to him. Normally, the angel wouldn’t hesitate to tell him if something was wrong, or if he had something on his mind, or rather a question to ask him about the current craze of online videos. This was definitely something the angel had been keeping secret for a long time. He just hoped that that something wasn’t as bad as the angel was making it out to be. And he hadn’t really said anything.

                Dean hadn’t known how long they had been standing there in their embrace until two heavy sets of footsteps came parading down the hall towards them.

                “Cas- “

                “I’ll tell you on the way.”

                 The angel then turned and made his way through the doorway just as Same and Jack were about to cross into the kitchen with two duffel bags each in hand.

                  As the seraph brushed passed the two on his way towards the garage, Sam shot his brother a confused expression, jaw shifted slightly to the side as silent questions filled the silence. Dean huffed and shook his head, following Cas down the hall with his brother and the devil’s child hot on his heels.

 

* * *

 

                Six hours on the road and Cas hadn’t said a damn word. And Dean was really starting to get agitated. The hail had tapered off some, but that didn’t do to damper the anger burning in Dean’s eyes as he spied dent after dent across the Impala’s hood.

              “How much longer do we have to drive?” was the last straw that tipped the pot of Dean’s boiling rage over the edge.

              Dean glared back at the angel in the back seat, blue eyes peering back at him expectantly with a slight squint as he recognized the hunter’s look of anger.

              “I don’t know, Cas,” Dean hissed, “how much longer are you going to sit back there and not tell us about a damn thing that’s going here?!” he snapped, bother hands gripping the wheel with an iron like grip. He was done beating around the bush about this. If Cas wasn’t going to tell them on his own what they were blindly walking into then he would have to force it out of him.

              “Dean!” came a harsh quip from his brother beside him, eyes now focused on him rather than his computer screen. Dean’s glare was directed towards the younger hunter, green eyes clashing with sunrise hazel.

              “Shut it, Sam, he said he was going to fill us in on whatever the hell is happening in Fucksford, fuckin’ Idaho, and he still hasn’t said a damn thing after six damn-“

              “His name is Tony…”

              Silence fell over the cabin of the Impala. Eyes looking between each other in search of an explanation when there wasn’t one. _Tony?_ Dean thought, glare trained on the highway blazing under them. _Who the hell is Tony?!_ Anger swelled up again inside of the hunter. He glanced back at the seraph through the rearview mirror, expecting to find a ruffled, grumpy angel with tense shoulders, squinty eyes and a blank expression like always. Oh boy, was he wrong. Instead, it was the complete opposite! The man looked ten times smaller. His eyes were glassy, face and skin as pale as a bed sheet, shoulders fallen so low that if he didn’t know any better, he’d think that they were disfigured. Castiel looked like a god damned wreck. A sliver of guilt sliced through Dean’s chest as he watched him, but it was quickly snuffed out as an inferno engulfed him once again. Whoever this Tony guy was, he had no right to make the angel look like that, or act like he did back at the bunker. He absolutely would not, under any circumstances, allow that.

              The hunter returned his glare back towards the rearview mirror, the heat of it surely enough to feel ten yards away.

              “Who the hell is Tony, Cas?” he demanded, “Why are we driving at the fucking ass crack of morning to rescue this guy like a princess in her damned shitty tower guarded by some pathetic dragon?! You have to give us more than just a name, Cas! For god fuckin’ sake!!” he yelled, eyebrows furrowed as he watched the road snake its way under them.

              Sam stayed silent this time around, but his fingers were still on his keyboard; he was clearly waiting to head what Cas had to say. Jack hadn’t said a word, strangely, but nonetheless appreciated.

              A soft, almost inaudible, sniffle alerted the hunter to chance a look at the back seat. Cas was… He might have been alittle pissed before, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the fury that exploded with him at the sight. Cas was _crying._ Tears rolled down the angel’s face as Jack watching on in mortification beside the seraph. Cas looked smothered now in his usual just slightly too big for him trench coat, face a sickly almost white pink, tan fabric almost ripping between his shaking, clenched fingers. He was glaring lasers out of the rain splattered window, chest heaving as he tried to keep everything in. Sure, Dean probably shouldn’t have yelled at him, sure, he was going to feel guilty for that for a while, and sure, Dean wanted to kick himself for making the dude cry, but damnit, he needed some answers!

              He could see Sam watching him from the corner of his vision, waiting to see what he might say, or do.

              Dean’s hands quivered against the steering wheel, hot and sweaty against the leather just from his hot fury alone. What could be so- so whatever it was to Cas to make him like this? What could- It hit him. Cas had been in Rexford working at that Gas n’ Sip. He remembered now. That situation with the psycho angel or whatever after the angels fell. Who knows who Cas had met! This was maybe a friend of his that called needing his help!

 _Or maybe it was a lover_. The thought shot a pang of jealousy through Dean’s heart. Would Cas even be interested in something like that then? He mentally kicked himself for that thought. Of course, he was! He had thought that his manager had asked him out for Christ sake! Of course, he was!! Not to mention the night that they shared _after_ that whole ordeal. He didn’t want to think about it however much it invaded his mind. He remembered what happened that night after they had ganked the killer healer angel… Cas must have bounced back and someone else took interest in him. That someone else being this Tony guy. Great, just fucking great…

             “Dean,” Sam huffed, his voice sharp and dripping with irritation. Dean glared back at his brother and was about to mouth off a witty remark before a voice from the back seat cut him off.

             “He is very important to me,” Cas breathed, his voice slightly deeper and raspier than its usual gravel with emotion.

             A scoff escaped Dean’s lips before he could stop it.

             “Yeah, we get that, Cas,” he huffed, “Obviously he mean a whole shit load to you,” Dean growled, eyes trained on the road as they sped along. “Is he just a friend or was this your-“

             “He’s a Nephilim,”

_What?_

             Again, the impala was drowned in a thick silence. A heavy, sickening weight settled in Dean’s stomach then.

            “A neph- “

_Another-_

            “He’s mine,”

 


	2. Hail and Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little warning to begin with. There is a description of a small panic/anxiety attack in this chapter.

 

          The screeching of tires ripped through the air, black skid marks scarring the pavement as Dean struggled to gain control of the Impala. “The fuck-“ he gasped, fingers shaking as he finally managed to pull Baby back into their lane.

          “What the fuck do you mean he’s yours?” Dean all but roared, ignoring the honks of other cars who, quite possibly, shouldn’t be on the road at this ungodly hour, but here they were. The tap of fingers against a keyboard came from the passenger’s seat, combating the charged tension filling up the cabin.

           Cas let out a huff, blue eyes trained on the hunter now. Tears wiped away, cheeks red and shoulders tensed, the angel almost looked like his usual self. Almost. “I mean, he is my biological son,” he declared, matching Dean’s glare through the mirror.

           Dean let out a choked sound before Sam spoke up, breaking up the electric atmosphere alittle.

          “Alright, well, I’ve pulled up every male living in Rexford, Idaho, that I could find in the hospital’s database. Most of them are well into their thirties, which couldn’t be Tony. But there are some that are pretty young…” Sam explained, glancing back at Cas who was now straining to look over the front seat at the screen.

           Dean watched them from the driver’s seat, a hot panic streaming through his veins as Cas’ expression softened with emotion. This was really happening. Cas had a kid. A young kid! A kid that wasn’t older than eight years old! He swallowed thickly, gaze locked onto the grey highway. He didn’t dare another glance at Cas, jaw clenched as he fell silent to listen.

           Sam shifted his jaw, glancing back over at his brother before clearing his throat. He knew what his brother was feeling. He couldn’t believe that Cas had an actual kid either, but the least they could do was help him protect his son. He could see the wheels turning in his brother’s head and the split-second stab of jealousy that had coursed through him. But if he wanted to keep playing to straight as a board role, fine. He’d play along, but sooner or later, this had to come to a head. And it seemed that it would blow up in their faces sooner rather than later. It always did.

          “Alright, well, we’ve got a Tony Wilson, age four and a half, a Tony A. Carter, age six, Tony Lars-McAllen, age 12… all the rest are above twenty, but I can-“

          “Keep going,” Cas demanded, blue eyes laser focused on the screen as Sam scrolled alittle bit further down. They passed a few more profiles, a Tony Atherton who was about fifty, a Tony B. Barks who was forty-three and looked like he could be a ratty car salesman. But then-

         “There! That’s him!” the seraph gasped, eyes wide and a slight smile playing on the edge of his lips. Sam bit his lip, eyes narrowed in confusion as he clicked on the full hospital record. Cas was almost on top of the front seat trying to get a closer look at the picture that popped up, blue eyes brimming with affection at the sight of it.

          The younger Winchester swallowed gently, “That… that can’t be right Cas, the record says that he’s twenty-five…” he told him, eyes narrowed in confusion. A simple nod from Cas spurred Sam to continue.

          Meanwhile, Dean was silently freaking out behind the wheel. The kid was twenty fuckin’ five?! How the hell- When the hell- Who the hell- Why the hell hadn’t Cas fuckin’ told them he had a twenty-five-year-old kid?!!

          Sam shot a look over at Dean, who was stone faced as he stared out the windshield. He could see the little tick at the corner of his eye that told him that he was definitely listening. The younger hunter decided to ignore it though; he wouldn’t try to knock some sense into his brother, not yet anyway.

          He sighed softly, tilting his head to the side before reading the page out loud. “Tony J. Moore, age twenty-five, five foot eleven, lives on South Hidden Valley Road, had a broken arm when he was ten and the flu when he was fifteen…” Sam breathed, jaw shifting as he considered the picture for a moment.

          Tony was a handsome looking young man with dark brown hair and a sharp jaw line. He had a set of freckles dotting his face and down his neck where a thin layer of stubble had grown. The kid had wild hair, which he guessed was from Cas and tanned skin. Overall, the kid looked a lot like the angel in the back seat, aside from a few differences. One, that he would not point out, were his eyes. He’d seen eyes like that before, everyday infact, but… no, it couldn’t be possible. There’s was no way. Could there be? He mentally groaned and decided to store that for later before he heard Jack finally speak up from the backseat.

          The boy had been quiet this entire time, probably confused or lost as to what to say. He didn’t blame him. When he found out his own father had had a kid aside from his brother and himself… he didn’t want to think about that.

           “A Nephilim… you mean like me?” he asked, his brows furrowed in confusion. The way that his little head tilt resembled Cas was almost endearing.

            Dean chose that moment to speak up, “Yeah, kid, _just_ like you. We’ll have another one of you running around the bunker. Isn’t that just _wonderful_?” he chided sarcastically, glare hard against the road.

           The comment didn’t seem to register in Jack’s head as sarcasm because the Nephilim was all smiles and excitement. Another one like him! A Nephilim! He almost couldn’t wait!

           “Dean,” Sam growled, eyes narrowed towards his brother now. Dean laughed darkly, hoping to hid his growing jealousy. No one had to know that he envious of the woman that could actually get Cas into bed, well after what happened between them that night. But that’s besides the point.

           “So, angel blade wasn’t that good of protection after all, huh, Cas?” he huffed, glancing back at the seraph to earn a glare through the rearview.

           “It is not the time for your allusions, Dean,” the angel growled. “And if you don’t remember, I only had a microscopic amount of grace left at that time. So, I was not, as you would say, abundant with ‘mojo’,” he huffed, eyes reverting back to Sam’s laptop.

           Now there was something to talk about. If Cas didn’t have much his grace left at that time, then how did the Nephilim even come to be? He couldn’t think of Cas having some bedroom time with another angel, but it was a possibility… wasn’t it? He’d have to ask him later how exactly that could happen.

           “So, what’d she look like, Cas? Did she have a big rack?” he asked, a smirk directed right back towards the angel.

           That only got him a glare from his younger brother. “What? I’m just curious! She had to be something to be able to get Cas into the bedroom,” he laughed, green eyes never leaving the rearview. However, the angel wasn’t paying a lick of attention to the two brothers, or at least trying not to, in favor of the picture on the computer screen.

            “So, twenty-five years, huh? Thought you were a good soldier of heaven back then, sunshine?” Dean chuckled, shooting a shit eating grin back at the seraph.

             Cas’ gaze landed on him just as intense as before, blue eyes narrowed and squinty with frustration.

            “He’s actually five and a quarter, and no, I hadn’t taken a vessel until after I raised you from perdition,” he stated in a matter-of-factly way before settling himself back down in the backseat.

            “He aged similarly to Jack, just not as quickly. Every Nephilim is different in terms of their development,” the angel added, making himself comfortable again against the leather.

             Five and a quarter, huh? So, Cas actually did hookup with someone in Rexford, and got the bitch pregnant nonetheless! Fucking fantastic, just wonderful! This is just what they needed.

             Despite the hunter’s displeasure over the whole situation, Cas was overjoyed to be able to see his son again! The last time he had seen the boy… he was only an infant. He had been so fragile in his arms, so small, so… so beautiful. He willed away tears at the thought, blinking several times before sighing gently. He had grown up so quickly. Part of him loathed the fact that he hadn’t had a noticeable presence in the boy’s life, but that was all worth it to keep him safe. From angels and demons a like. Until now.

             He had only trusted a few angels to watch over his son in the passed five years. Most he had known for a millennium, since the day of his creation, but not all of them agreed to help him. A select handful he put his absolute trust in to keep Tony safe until the time came for Cas to return… that was the original plan.

 

* * *

 

             It had been the day before that he was visited by Netzach. He had known the other seraph for as long as he could remember. Netzach had been a member of the lowest of the garrisons responsible for the Tree of Life, the Elohim, and Cas could only trust him with gathering information and relaying it to him.

            He was on a grocery run when a familiar voice sounded over the hum of the refrigerated aisles.

            “Castiel,” it came from beside him, a male voice that drawled with an accented slur. The voice was drowning in an Irish or Scottish accent, thick with heritage.

              Cas turned to face a short, but thin looking man with round, pink tinted glasses. His face was a gentle round, cheeks a dusted rose as well as his nose. He looked quite young, maybe in his later twenties or early thirties. He wore a green button up with an orange tie that was adorned with tiny diamond shapes scattered across the fabric. It looked like he was of European or Irish descent, a spindly ginger beard hanging from his chin and cheeks. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have associated him with the human depiction of St. Nicholas, if Chris Cringle was a ginger.

             “Netzach,” Cas beamed, a slight smile pulling at the edges of his lips as he greeted the jolly seraph. If Dean had been there, he’d have surely made some comment about the Christmas icon. The thought made the seraph chuckle.

            “Castiel, I wish we were meeting under different circumstances,” Netzach began, his face pulled down in a frown as he spoke.

             Cas felt like a cold bucket of water was thrown on him, a cold punch in the gut making his eyes widen in fright as he stepped towards the other.

            “What happened? Is Tony okay? What’s going on, Net- “he gasped his shoulders drawing up with tension.

             Netzach rose both hands into the air as Cas bombarded him with question after question. He chuckled softly, a gentle grin playing on his pink lips. “Calm down, old friend, he is fine,” he breathed, watching as the other settled, but only slightly.

            “However,” he breathed, a pointer finger hanging in the air.

            “Netzach,” Cas rumbled with frustration, his eyes narrowed as he waited for the other seraph to speak again. Netzach wasn’t one to be so black and white about things; he wasn’t this serious most of the time, infact, he reminded Castiel very much of Gabriel. But Cas never knew Netzach to act so solemnly. That’s how he knew the other came baring bad news.

            “They’ve learned of his location,” he breathed, amber eyes swimming with concern as he spoke.

             Cas’ stomach dropped, threatening to toss up something that wasn’t there. He felt ill for the first time since he was human. They knew where Tony was; they knew where he had hidden his son.

             He must have started to hyperventilate because Netzach had drawn closer, two hands on his shoulders. “Castiel, hey, old friend, listen,” he pried, red, rosy face filling up Cas’ vision.

            Cas only gained a micro amount of control over himself long enough to listen to the other angel’s voice.

            Netzach sighed softly, straightening up his friend’s rumpled trench coat before continuing. “For now, Phanuel and I will continue to keep out guard up. But, as soon as you and the Winchesters can join us in Rexford, the better off we will be against Zaphkiel’s forces,” he told him, his amber eyes gently despite the true urgency of the situation.

            Castiel turned his head, hoping to find some sort of guide as to what to do on a lone carton of two percent milk. Getting to Rexford wasn’t really the problem, if need be he could drive himself. It was telling the brothers that was the problem. He knew that Dean would definitely react coldly, if not flat out refuse to help him… but he doubted it would come to that. And Sam, he knew Sam would help him, regardless of what his brother did. All he had to do was explain what was happening… and what had happened. That was going to be the most difficult.

             It seemed Netzach had noticed his dilemma, smiling sympathetically up at the seraph.

            “You haven’t told-“

             Cas shook his head, a sigh escaping his lips. “No, I haven’t,” he stated, “there was never a good time to,” he breathed, not meeting Netzach’s gaze. Netzach patted the other’s shoulder tenderly, smiling gently. “Don’t worry, old friend, whatever happens when you do, I will be here to help,” he hummed, nodding up at him.

             Cas forced a tiny smile down at him, sighing as he let his shoulders go slack at his sides. “Thank you, Netzach, I don’t know what I’d do-“

            “Ah, old friend, no need for the wishy-washy talk, you know I am always on your side,” he told him, stepping away from him slowly.

            “Don’t hesitate to-“ Cas blurted, a frown returning to his face as he stepped after the other.

            “I know, Castiel, I will, don’t worry,” Netzach chuckled before disappearing behind the next aisle.

            The seraph waited a moment, standing in silence as he stared at the space where the seraph had been. He turned, willing his mind to veer away from the situation at hand, but the bottles of beer infront of him couldn’t do him much justice. All they reminded him of was Dean. And he could not think about that right now. Absolutely could not, would not think about the green-eyed hunter right then. He couldn’t think of the disgust that would definitely be painted all over his face as Castiel told him what he had been hiding all these years. Couldn’t bare to imagine the words that would come from hard lips. Ones that he remembered had been so soft against his… No, he had to, he couldn’t.

            As he continued down the aisle, he could feel the cold sweat accumulating on the back of his neck, the nauseating bubble of his stomach, and the almost unnerving feeling of being watched like a deer alone in an empty meadow slowly consume him like a pack of wolves ravaged a rabbit carcass. He shivered violently, shaking his head as he stilled himself and his shopping cart.

            He couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes at the back of his neck, burning hot as embers with insistence but like a whisper in a crowded room. He swallowed, glancing around the small aisle rapidly. He could feel his heartbeat faster and faster, his hands shake quicker and quicker, his breathing pushing in and out of his lungs like it couldn’t wait to escape the dark confides on his chest. As much as he tried to ignore it, the more he wanted to hurl his guts up.

            Once he stepped foot into the produce aisle, he just couldn’t stand it anymore. He was trembling and falling into a fast-downward spiral of sharp inhales that pinched at his lungs, and tremors that shook him to his very core. He couldn’t stop it, however hard he tried, however hard he willed his vessel to be calm. He just couldn’t.

            “Sir, are you alright?” came a voice from beside him, jarring him slightly. An elderly woman stood next to him with a small shopping basket in hand. He had no idea when she had got there, but she had a small hand placed on his shoulder and frown wrinkling her face.

            Cas stared down at her blankly, his lips parted in a silent reply. He nodded, blinking several times in an attempt to banish the black blooms that had slowly encroached on his vision.

            “Y-yes, I’m fine… thank you,” he swallowed a thick lump in his dry throat, turning away from her. He couldn’t take it anymore. The world was spinning in a vortex of color and darkness so fast that he could hardly keep up with the swirling masses.

            He had to leave.

      now.

              Now.

                             Now!

                                           NOW!

              He quickly dug up all that he could of the rest of his grace, as little of it he had left, before disappearing before the woman’s eyes, cart forgotten…

 

             “Cas… Cas!”

              The seraph jumped a little, whipping his head over towards the driver’s seat.

              Dean let out an exasperated huff, “Sonovabitch, Cas…” he mumbled, glancing out of the window before back at the road. “I said, what are we rushing to Rexford for? I doubt its for a little happy father-son reunion,” the hunter grumbled, his face hard and unreadable. He had been trying to get Cas’ attention for ten damn minutes down. The angel had been off in his own little world, eyes clouded over and dormant as he sat idle in the backseat.

               Cas shifted in his seat, glancing around like had no idea what had happened. “My apologizes, Dean,” he told him. The seraph’s hands had begun to fidget with his coat again, his eyes darkening slightly as he faced the dark window.

               Dean watched him through the rearview mirror, green eyes searching over his face carefully. I he had the time that he wanted, he’d have already categorized every detail of the man’s face. Every dip and curve, every wrinkle and scar, every misplaced freckle and dimple. He’d have it all down to a T, to a science. But he didn’t have the time, or really the permission to. He growled out a sigh, his knuckles turning what as he gripped the wheel.

              “Cas,” he warned, his voice on the edge of a snarl as he urged the angel. Sam turned to his brother to say something but immediately withdrew, catching the glare that he shot him.

              Cas let out a puff of air, eyes narrowed as he moved his gaze down to his hands. He had known that this wasn’t going to be anywhere near easy, but it had to be done, didn’t it? He cleared his throat, holding his head up slowly as he made eye contact with the green-eyed hunter.

              “Zaphkiel’s followers have learned of Tony’s location,” he started, shifting his jaw as he spoke. “A friend of mine, a seraph called Netzach, informed me last night.” The angel appeared winded from even just saying those two sentences, as if he was walking on eggshells as he breathed out every syllable.

              Sam nodded gently, tapping away again on his laptop. He hummed softly, scanning over the text before reading aloud. “Zaphkiel is an archangel. His name means "God's knowledge". Zaphkiel is "chief of the order of thrones and one of the 9 angels that rule Heaven; also one of the seven archangels."

              Dean looked put off, “ _Seven_?! There’s _seven_ of those winged dicks?! Son of a-“ he hissed, tapping on the steering wheel to maybe calm his irritation.

              Sam glanced back at Cas, swallowing gently. “Is any of this true, Cas?” he asked, hands hovering of the keyboard.

              Cas nodded solemnly, “Unfortunately, yes. Aside from Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael, there are four other archangels, lesser known, but equal in power and authority. Other than Zaphkiel, the other archangels that humans have come to know aren’t exactly accurate. Infact, not many of the remaining angels actually know if the rest are still alive,” he told them, blue eyes opaque and dull. Dean watched him silently, eyebrows furrowed.

              “So, what does Zaphkiel want with Tony, Castiel?” Jack piped up, eyes laser focused on his adoptive father. He was eager to learn more about other angels, and the Nephilim he would soon be able to meet, if they got there in time. Cas closed his eyes, glancing away before continuing.

              “So far, Netzach and Phanuel have yet to figure out what he wants with him, but it can’t be good, whatever it may be,” he rumbled, a frown making its way onto his face. He couldn’t let himself imagine what Zaphkiel would do to his son, what he would use the boy for. But he knew that they could not let Zaphkiel take him, that much he knew, and he would rip out the remainder of his grace if he let that happen.

              “Okay, wait, wait, who the hell is Netz-who-“

              “Netzach,” Cas interrupted.

              “Netzach, whatever, and Phannel? Friends of yours that you decided not to tell us about?” Dean snarled, a grim edge to his voice that could cut glass.

              “Netzach is a seraph that I’ve known since my creation. We met when we were both only fledglings, he has been my friend ever since,” Castiel explained, a fondness in his voice that Dean hadn’t heard in quite a while. He didn’t quite care for it.

              “And Phanuel?” Jack asked, gazing up at Cas like he was a dog about to receive a jerky stick eager and ready for any more information that the angel had.

              Cas smiled then at the name, making Dean’s eye twitch slightly. “I met Phanuel before venturing into Hell, apart from myself, she was one of the only ones to return alive from the mission. I saved her life while battling through one of the last waves of demons,” he nodded, remembering the hot searing fire that had engulfed them as they descended in hopes of rescuing the righteous man.

              “Right so, uncle Netzach and auntie Phanuel have been looking after little Tony, am I right?” Dean inquired, shifting the wheel slightly as he took an exit onto a backroad.

              Cas paused for a second, eyes squinted in confusion. “They hold no such relation, but yes, they have been watching over my son for the past five years,” he told them, nodding slightly.

              A frustrated puff came from the oldest hunter. What was he supposed to do with all this information? Yesterday they had just been looking into a witch hunt that looked promising down in Waco, Texas now they were more than halfway to Fucksford, diving headfirst into more angel business. Just another day as a Winchester… He needed something strong, and maybe something soft. He hummed with a smile at the thought, glancing over at a sign on the side of the road.

REXFORD 248 MILES.

              Three more hours… hey, maybe he could make it two.

              The Impala roared as Dean pushed further on the gas, the hunter watching as the road began to blur under them.

              Sam watched his brother with narrowed eyes, shifting his jaw before turning and peering out the window. He kept imagining the same thing over and over in his head. He couldn’t shake the thought and the obvious implications that it held. He sighed, closing his laptop with a gentle tap and turning to lay his head down against the seat. Even that didn’t stop the image of green forest eyes staring up at him from his computer screen.

              He knew whose eyes those were.

              But there was absolutely no way…

             

              Was there?


	3. Cold Coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alittle bit of naughtiness at the beginning, nothing too explicit

_Warm. Warm. Everything was warm. He couldn’t decide if it was too hot or not enough, either way he couldn’t get enough. Oh, he needed more. God almighty, he needed so much more. He’d never felt so-so good before, never. Oh- oh there, oh fuck right there. The searing slide of saliva slid down his exposed neck, trailing from the soft tender spot under his ear and to just above his collarbone. Hands slid up his exposed sides, sending a shiver down his arched spine. The cold bite of the air ripped right down to his volcanic core, only serving to ignite the flames even more._

_He glanced down at the person below him, their heated gazes meeting and exploding with electric flames._

_“Cas…” he whispered, his chest heaving as he swooped down and captured his best friend’s lips in his own whiskey drowned ones. Oh this was- was, he couldn’t think of how to describe it. But oh, god, oh, oh, **oh** -_

 

          Oh.

          Dean blinked several times, eyes focusing on slowly on the bed across the floor. The hunter shivered gently, swallowing as he slowly rose to his elbows with an overly obnoxious yawn.

          “Finally, thought I’d have to flip the bed just to get you to get up,” Sam huffed from across the room, sitting at a small table near the door. He was hunched over his laptop, tapping away feverishly as he did so.

          Dean huffed, smacking his lips gently as he sat there. He glanced around, spying the trench coat clad angel sitting across from his brother, and Jack sitting in front of the television cross legged like a kid on a Saturday morning waiting for his favorite cartoon.

          He made a move to uncover himself, but- well, there was just one tiny problem with that. Dean’s eyes flicked downwards, a hot throb between his legs making a small bit of color rise to the surface of his cheeks. The hunter internally groaned, shifting his jaw before looking up at his brother again. He could not, absolutely could not, ever think of getting up with a fresh case of morning wood infront of his brother, and Jack, let alone Cas. Oh god, no. Don’t think about Cas.

         He cleared his throat, glancing up at Sam turned towards him, halting his fingers on the keys.

        “Coffee,” Dean uttered, trying his best to sound extra groggy as he fixed his brother with his trademarked morning stare. It was true, he did need, want, coffee, even though it was probably like one in the afternoon, but hey, he just woke up. And he needed them out of the room. Now. So, he went with coffee.

         Sam shot his own patented bitch face over at his brother, jaw shifted as he let out an exasperated sigh. He reached up and slapped his laptop shut, grabbing his coat from the chair behind him and stood.

         “Fine, come on, Cas,” Sam mumbled, already heading towards the door as the ever silent angel followed him out of the door almost too quickly. With a slam, the two were gone, and would be for at least twenty minutes. Perfect.

          Now, he just had to get around the kid, which wouldn’t be too hard, seeing at the Nephilim's eyes were practically glued to the television screen. He made a hasty retreat, making his way to the bathroom in record time as he flung the covers off and made a beeline to the bathroom. Door locked; shower turned on. Dean could finally breathe.

 

         Sam plopped down in the driver’s side of the Impala, careful not to slam the door shut in irritation. Truth be told, he had sat in that room for a good twenty minutes listening to his brother dream about… ugh, he didn’t even want to think about the things he heard. On top of that, he had to listen to Cas constantly asking if he could wake Dean up so they could drive over to Tony’s address. He had finally left and come back several times, running around like the world was on fire. Doing what, Sam had no idea. Needless to say, he was just a little agitated.

         Sam glanced over at the angel as he slid into the passenger’s seat, chewing on his lip as he pulled out of the motel parking lot.

         He couldn’t really blame the guy, he understood why he was so upset but… damn he was sure the kid was alright as of the moment. Though, speaking of… there was one thing that he couldn’t shake from his mind. That thing he has stored away for later. Now seemed that the best time as ever to ask.

         As the impala roved down the street, he turned to the seraph slightly, glancing between the road and the passenger seat with practiced ease.

        “Hey, Cas,” he started, trying to keep his tone as casual as humanly possible. He didn’t want any more stress to befall the angel.

        Cas turned, “Yes, Sam?” he asked, blue eyes trained on him expectantly.

        Sam bit his lip, clearing his throat as he focused on the road.

       “I um, I don’t want to be too, well, too personal but um-“

       “Sam,” Cas rumbled, his voice coarse as he spoke. Dangerous. It seemed to tear at the small space between them, leaving little room to breathe.

       “I know you’re curious,” Cas breathed, eyes anywhere but the hunter. He looked like he was about to combust. His skin was blushed an angry red, his lips chapped from worry, and small beads of sweat settling on his neck and forehead made it clear that the dude was nervous. Beyond nervous. Though, he didn’t look put off by the notion.

       Of course, Cas had been expecting this. The one on one, the alone in the car questioning. It was a routine that the Winchesters and himself had fallen into. When they had to talk, it always had to be in the Impala, or in one of their rooms back at the bunker. It absolutely could not, under any circumstances, be more than two of them. That was just too much. Unheard of. It was out of the question. Nonsensical.

       Cas gazed out the window, watching as a flock of birds passed by overhead. Oh, how he longed to be one of them. To be able to fly so far way from this situation, this conversation… but no, he’d done this to himself. He’d been the one keeping the secrets. And now was just the time to let those secrets out. Regrettably at least. Hadn’t he learned his lesson about this before? Apparently not.

       “I might not have an extent of knowledge of social cues, Sam, but I’m not stupid,” he droned, sounding far away as the words escaped his lips.

        Sam stared at him for a good few seconds, his neck bobbing as he did so. Of course, he was curious! The angel had a freakin’ kid for Christ’s sake!! He just- ugh, he hated talking, as much as he urged his brother to open up, you’d think he’d be more inclined to speaking his mind. In this moment, he found himself rather tongue tied.

        Then again, he did have a right to know… if what he was thinking was true… Maybe he could help! Yes, help! Emotional conversations were supposedly his specialty, weren’t they? And lately, if he didn’t know any better, he’d say they were in dire need of his certain _expertise._ He would’ve laughed at that under any other circumstances but this, this he needed to be serious about. For Cas.

        Sam cleared his throat, directing his gaze back to the road. He had to word this right, or else this could end even more awkwardly than it started.

        A sigh gently escaped him before he spoke.

       “Dean can be extremely dense sometimes,” he told the angel, hesitating to steal a glance over at his friend.

        That had caught the seraph’s attention, albeit not absolutely, no, but he could see that Cas was listening by the way his eyes flicked from the window to the dash and then back again.

        “But, Cas, you know, if you’d just tell him that-“

        “No, Sam, I can’t,” Cas interrupted, his blue eyes narrowed to slits. His voice was so rough it rivalled sandpaper, stiff with irritation as it swarmed through his vocal chords like some frantic bees. However, there was something… something deeper, down below, hidden under the guise of aggravation.

         Now, Sam knew of his brother’s and the angel’s little… let’s call it “aggressive vertical tango” that they had been performing around each other for the past ten years now. He had lived through almost each and every one of their sexual tension staring contests, their longer than necessary hugs or touches that ended with fond looks and gentle smiles, and their never ending whose looking at who when they think no one is looking. Oh, he’d seen it all and he’d have to have a really, really small IQ not to pick up on at least some of their pining.

         So, it wasn’t a surprise when he recognized the immense amount of pain hidden behind Cas’ blue irises.

         Sam shook his head, rolling through the drive through of the first McDonald’s he seeing before making his way back onto the road.

         “Cas, don’t think that I don’t know about this… thing that you and Dean have,” he mumbled, stealing glances over at the angel as he drove. Cas, for lack of better words, was as red as a rod of iron right out of the furnace. If he were just a little more crimson, Sam would have worried if there was something wrong with his circulatory system.

         Sam’s shoulders slumped alittle bit, a frown befalling his face as he turned back to the road. Of course, everything started to make a lot more sense the more he allowed himself to think about it. Overwhelmingly so that he found that, even when he hadn’t noticed the little things, it had always been there. Undoubtably. Ineffably. Indefinitely. And then, oh boy, and then, he started to piece together the numerous puzzle pieces that were finally making themselves visible to him.

         Dean going alone to Rexford to help Cas with a case…

         The secrecy that his brother held, even after the case had been finished. All he knew about it was that there was a crazy murderous angel. Nothing more.

         Oh, and when Dean got back, sans Cas, he’d been weird. Too weird. Weirder than he’d ever seen him. That night he’d drank himself beyond stupid. He’d been hung over before, sure, dozens of times in the past. But this… this was a whole new kind of fucked.

         It wasn’t until a few days later that Sam spied a small little bruise just under his brother’s shirt collar, faded and angry pink, but still pretty visible. And-

        Oh god.

        Oh

        Oh.

        OH.

       “Sam!!”

       The hunter jumped, slamming his foot on the brakes to narrowly avoid ramming the front of the Impala into the back of a golden ’78 Lincoln Continental Mark V.

       Cas glared ahead, glancing over at the Winchester before turning back to the window he had previously been glaring out of for the passed ten minutes.

       Sam’s eyes were on him now, boring into him like drills carving their way to the center of his skull. And all he could feel from that gaze was an immense wave of pure _pity._ Pity. Castiel had never, ever in his long existence, hated that emotion more. It send his blood boiling to a point where if Sam uttered just one more measly syllable he might just-

       “Cas, you need to-“

       “I need to what, Sam?! What do I need to do?! What do I need to tell him?!! That I love him?! That I love him so much that I kept-“ Cas cut himself off, choking back at he withdrew himself. Tears had surfaced behind his eyes, threating to fall if the angel continued. But Castiel was not finished.

      “That I kept Tony a secret from him for the past six damn years so he wouldn’t have to worry… Tell me, Sam… What do I need to do? Because as far as I know, and believe me, I do _know_ , he knows that I love him, and he doesn’t give two shits to be in such an _arrangement_ with me!” All resolve the seraph had was long gone, flown away on the wings of one of the birds that had flown over head.

       Hot droplets fell from Castiel’s face, dripping heavily like a downpour on to his clenched hands. He sat stiff, trembling as he tried to force his sobs down his throat.

       Sam was deaf to the angry honks and yells from behind them, hazel eyes as wide as saucers as he watched his friend break down not even two feet away. Guilt swamped over Sam like a geyser of oil, splattering everything in its black, oozy loathsome inkiness.

      The hunter stuttered, hands shaking as he gripped the wheel and willed the Impala into motion. He swallowed, turning into a vacant parking lot and parking in one of the empty spaces. He turned, all of his attention on the angel in the passenger’s seat beside him.

      He had to know now. He just had to. If his brother had done anything to warrant such a reaction from the angel, then… then he didn’t know what he’d do. And he certainly had, if the weeping seraph was any clue.

      Sam waited a long moment before speaking again, a frown on his face as he gathered his thoughts and prepared himself for what he was about to say.

      With a final swallow, he rested his hands on his lap and looked up at Cas gently, pleading as he spoke.

      “Cas,” he almost whispered.

      Blue eyes slid towards him, puffy and red as a hand came to wipe at them.

     “What happened here after that case you two worked?” Sam asked.

      Cas was silent for a moment, eyes darting every which way before landing on the seat just in front of the hunter. He sighed, sniffling gently.

      “It started when Dean asked if I wanted to go hit the bar…”


	4. What Happened in Rexford (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!! So I've decided to break this next chapter into two (maybe three) parts. I'm currently in the process of moving, but I also want to keep this updated. So, these parts will be alittle shorter than the passed chapters, but don't worry!! They should be out quickly!!
> 
> Warnings for this part-  
> -Castiel Angst

       The former angel wasn’t certain if what he just heard came from Dean’s lips, or if it was a cruel joke that had been created by his imagination but-

       “Cas?” Dean asked, green eyes illuminated by the streetlamp ahead of them.

       Cas paused, blinking several times to make sure that glow was real. If he hadn’t been a celestial being beforehand, he would have definitely thought that the man before him was, infact, an angel, by human understanding that is. The hunter was just… just a beacon of beauty. Sun kissed tan skin dotted haphazardly with gentle freckles, silk soft pink lips just barely open as he gazed in Cas’ direction, jaw relaxed apart from its usual stiffness. Never in his countless years of life had Castiel had the privilege to admire something so pristine. Of course, this wasn’t the first time he had realized the degree of Dean’s perfection. No, there had been many, many times in the past that he had caught himself gazing at the man like he was piece of exquisite marble craftmanship only to be rivaled in ancient Rome.

       Now, this wouldn’t have been a problem if this was literally anyone else. Cas would just say no and be done with the whole debacle. But it was, certainly, inarguably a problem. A big problem. Because this was Dean. Dean Winchester. Hunter. Righteous man. His charge. His best friend.

       And he had just asked the former seraph if he wanted to go ‘hit’ the bar with him. Obviously, Castiel knew that they weren’t actually going to get physically violent with a rod of metal, but he wouldn’t lie if asked if that had been the first image that had popped into his head. Because, surely, Dean wasn’t asking if he wanted to go drinking with him.

       It just wasn’t something that he saw happening. Dean had sent him away, cast him out of the bunker, the only home he’d ever known, when he was at his weakest. The hunter had made it clear that he did not want him around. Who could really blame him though? He was useless to the brothers now, a burden without enough grace to even keep his vessel clean and regulated. He was, by all definitions, human, and he would not put the burden of both caring for him and his brother onto Dean’s shoulders. It would be too much. Of course, Cas understood. What do you do with a broken, worn out, and rusty tool? Throw it out. It’s not like the Winchesters would need him anymore anyway.

       So, he’d definitely heard wrong, hadn’t he?

       He swallowed, coating his lips purely out of habit. He followed those emerald eyes as they darted between his own blue ones and his lips, the hunter mimicking the action to wet his own to a delicate glistening shine.

      Castiel could feel heat creeping up from his neck, to his cheeks and barely daring to dance on the tips of his ears. It prickled like hellfire, sizzling an angry pink over his skin. He quickly averted his gaze to the dashboard, busying himself with taking in the well-cared-for surface.

      Dean stared at the side of his face for a moment longer before clearing his throat and repositioning himself in the driver’s seat. He ran his fingers across the wheel, letting out a soft sigh into the silence. Suddenly, Cas found it hard to breathe, watching those fingers waltz over the leather wheel, captivating him with their innocent display. The fire across his face burned hotter as he felt himself salivate, tightening his jaw as he forced himself to turn away.

       It seemed that it just wasn’t enough that he was here, with Dean, inside the Impala, alone. No. He just had to start thinking like _that_ , hadn’t he?

      “Look, Cas, I um-“ Dean’s voice shook Cas from his inner turmoil. The man paused, seeming to be considering something as he turned to glare out of the driver’s side window. Castiel frowned at the display, watching the other as he fought to find words.

       Dean turned back to him, a newly polished façade secured across his face. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, I mean, hey, we could always-“

      “I want to,” Castiel couldn’t stop himself. He felt the tips of his ears join the rest of his skin in the heated expanse, flames licking at the reddened skin. Of course, he wanted to! He’d go anywhere with Dean, even if he hadn’t asked. He was just, well, surprised, he supposed that was the right word for it. There were other that fit the feeling, like: astonished, astounded, dumbfounded, flabbergasted- he could go on and go on, even in different languages, but he rather preferred simplicity at the moment. So, he went with surprised.

       The hunter gazed over at him from across the cabin as if he’d just sprouted a third arm, eyes so wide the former angel worried they’d pop out, as improbable as it was.

       At first, as Cas watched on, a twitch of the corner of the man’s lips slowly became one of the most radiant smiles he had ever seen from the hunter. So bright that it dwarfed the meager lamp light from the curb and cast out the dull drone of the moon above them. Castiel, once again, had to re-evaluate his top five favorite memories. Many of which included Dean, but this, this had to be one of the happiest times he had seem him. If the former seraph thought he knew what dazzling meant, this definitely gave it a whole new definition.

      “Cool,” Dean’s voice came out a little coarser than usual, though Cas didn’t have really the capacity to notice. The hunter quickly pulled the Impala from the side of the road with that same smile gracing his lips, all the while oblivious to Cas’ on looking eyes.

      They rode on in silence, while one party was seemingly elated, the other was in a increasingly constant state of growing anxiety. Castiel could feel the world, the universe, closing around him, the darkness at the corners of his vision mounting a clear assault on his sight. He could feel his hands trembling as they struggled to grip at the fabric of his jeans, having to adjust their hold every time they happened to pass over a bump or a slight dip in the asphalt. He hadn’t realized they had stopped until-

      “Cas, hey,” breathed the hunter from beside him, a warmth now resting on Cas’ left shoulder that hadn’t been there before.

       Cas startled, turning to face Dean quickly like he had just laid a hot iron on his chest. When had he gotten so close?! His hand- his hand was so warm. Why was it that warm? His imagination was already working in high gear, sending an image of that warm hand somewhere more so down south-

       “Hey, hey, easy, you good?” Dean asked, gazing at him with genuine concern now. Cas didn’t know what put him off more, the fact that he was about to have his first drink as a human, the growing _problem_ in his pants, or the impossible notion that Dean actually cared about him. It sent him for a loop, then a dip, twist, bend, and then stopped with little room to think, or well, anything else that wasn’t purely Dean-related.

        Castiel really had no idea what to say. He absolutely could not say no, he’d disappoint the hunter, and probably ruin their evening, just like he’d ruined everything else recently, or ever. The thought slightly steadied him, a cold trickle running down his spine as he straightened. What was he doing? He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be with Dean. The hunter had to get back to his brother, and Cas had work in the morning! He couldn’t let his manager down. He should just end this right now before it gets out of hand, or worse… Dean notices his little _predicament_.

        The former seraph sighed deeply, closing his eyes as he turned to face the windshield. He shook his head only slightly, hearing the hunter shift in his seat next to him. He knew what was about to be said, what exactly was about to happen. It would start with a wise crack, probably linking Cas to that one movie, something about not having fun makes Castiel a dull boy. Then, it would devolve into a tense car ride back to the Gas n’ Sip, an awkward goodbye, and then Castiel would watch the taillights race off into the distance, probably for the last time. He’d never see Dean Winchester after that, not like it mattered to the hunter anyway.

       Cas opened his mouth to speak but Dean beat him to it.

       “It’s okay if you’re nervous man,” he shrugged, those emerald eyes peering over at him with nothing but- but warmth. Warmth? What in heaven’s name? Why would- How could- What?

        Cas swallowed hard, a familiar flutter blooming inside his chest as he studied the already overly memorized dashboard. Dean was being uncharacteristically nice… and Cas couldn’t decide if he should feel relieved or cautious. He wished he knew what the hunter was thinking. He’d give anything to know, but he no longer had the grand luxury of ‘mind reading’, as Dean once called it. If only he had a little bit more grace…

        He knew he had a tiny little drop left. He could feel it. It knew it was there, deep in his essence, or soul? Did he have a soul now that he was human? He didn’t know, and probably wouldn’t find out anytime soon.

        No. He had to say no. He couldn’t do this. Not now. But… then again, he could take advantage of this situation. It’s just him and Dean. When was the last time they’d had some time to themselves? The last time _Cas_ had _Dean_ to himself? The more Cas pondered, considered it, the more he found that he truly… he was going to be selfish tonight. Work be damned, just this once. For Dean.

        Castiel cleared his throat and nodded, glancing over at the hunter with a sheepish smile. “My apologizes, Dean, I do seem to be a little nervous,” he admitted, letting his shoulders fall from where they had stiffened at his neck.

        Dean nodded with a knowing smile, clapping his hand on Cas’ shoulder. “Ah, don’t worry, angel, come on, let’s go get somethin’ to calm your nervous,” he smirked before stepping out into the cool night air. Cas sat there for a good moment, blinking several times as he mulled over Dean’s words in his head. _He called me angel…but, I’m not-_ He gulped, his face quickly delving into a deep shade of crimson. He shivered and quickly followed Dean towards the door, making sure to stay as close as possible as they crossed the threshold.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for the next part-  
> -Alcoholism  
> -Graphic Sexual Scenes
> 
> ~BlakeBlue


End file.
